QuiGon's Moon
by Rogue Leader
Summary: After Xanatos' death, the Jedi Council decides to tell Qui-Gon about an odd inheritance
1. Inheritance

**Rating:**14A (PG-13)  
**Warnings:** None.  
**Spoilers:** JA Series 1-8  
**Archive: **WAAS; Please Ask  
**Feedback:** YES!  
**Thanks:** Harvest Moon :P   
**A/N:** Canon = JA 1-8. Then I play...  
**Status: **Incomplete   
**Disclaimers: **  
Harvest Moon = Nintendo   
Starwars = George Lucas and LFL.   
JA Plots = Dave Wolverton Jude Watson  
Nobrin Brothers = Aaron Allston

* * *

Qui-Gon's Moon 1: Inheritance 

The star map room was always a welcome refuge. The darkness was broken only by the pinpricks of light that signified each planet in the galaxy. One could almost feel like they were floating in the dead of space, Qui-Gon mused. The Jedi Knight closed his eyes and let the serenity of the stars claim him. This is what he desperately needed in the wake of recent events. 

Telos had been a nightmare. He had been shocked that his young apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi, had the audacity to join his renegade mission to the planet despite the fact that the youngster was currently on probation. In fact, the entire course of events had been rife with shock; the feelings of betrayal he had felt on Melida/Daan a scant few weeks ago, when Obi-Wan had left him and the Jedi Order to help the children of the war-ravaged planet win victory, the numbness instilled within him when he saw the message Obi-Wan had sent for help after things got out of hand... 

_Shock at feeling relieved by the knowledge that Obi-Wan was still alive._ Oh yes, that had been a big one. He had expected the betrayal from pretty much the first moment they had put their lot in together. But he didn't count on the youth turning back to him. Nor did he count on his own heart's treacherous feelings. 

Qui-Gon shook his head to clear it of these thoughts. The damaged had been done and was on its way to being repaired. Once things around the temple had a chance to settle, he and obi-Wan could begin the long healing process. Yes, Obi-Wan was his apprentice again. Yes, Telos had been a nightmare. Yes, Xanatos was dead. Maybe now his past could die along with his former apprentice. 

"Qui-Gon?" 

Tahl's voice broke the stillness and the shaft of light from the doorway broke the illusion Qui-Gon had worked so hard to achieve. He felt annoyance rise up within him. He took a calming breath, let the emotion consume him for a few moments, then he just let it go. 

He opened his eyes. "Tahl. I should have known that you'd find me." 

"I always find you, my friend. And I always have to beat some sense into that thick skull of yours. But not this time." 

Qui-Gon raised a brow, but said nothing. He let his eyes play over Tahl's features. A pang of guilt hit him as his gaze played over her now-blind eyes. 

"Stop that, Qui-Gon. It wasn't your fault. Now, let's go. The Council wishes to speak with you." 

--------------- 

Obi-Wan stood next to his master as the two faced the council. Yoda sat before them, diminutive and green. He fought the urge to fidget. He had no idea what was going to happen and he was nervous. _Please don't let them send me away. I didn't mean to break my probation -- Master Qui-Gon needed my help._

Before his thoughts could get any further, the venerated Jedi Master spoke, "Read we have, your reports on Telos." 

"Events could not have been any worse," Mace Windu added. "You did well, for a non-sanctioned mission." 

Obi-Wan blinked. That was high praise coming from Master Windu. Especially since, as the Councillor said, the mission was non-sanctioned. The youngster focused hi gaze upon Yoda, trying to figure out where the Masters were going with this. 

"Ordinarily," Windu continued, "we'd sent you and your Padawan on a routine probationary mission. However, while you were away, other events transpired which have made us reconsider your situation." 

"Sending you to Agamar, we are. Receive an inheritance, you must." Yoda's ears twitched in amusement. 

Obi-Wan raised a brown and glanced at Qui-Gon. When someone was brought to the temple, any claims or inheritances they may have been entitled to were forfeit. All wealth, titles and land were given up to the pursuit of the Jedi Arts. Of course, being a baby when all of this would transpire, no one really remembered where he or she came from. It was the decision of the parents to give the child - in some cases their only heir - up to the Jedi. 

How then could Qui-Gon, tied and bound by the Force to his calling as a Jedi Knight, receive such a thing without renouncing his place in the Order? 

Mace Windu explained, "During the uprising ten years ago, you mediated the dispute..." 

"...And defended a farm that was caught in the middle of one of the nastier fights." Qui-Gon finished. "I remember that. Stubborn farmers, the lot of them...." 

"Remembered you, the old farmer did. Left you everything, he has." 

"We're shipping you off to Agamar. Kenobi, you're going with him." Windu smiled. "Your mission is to restore the farm." 

Ki Adi Mundi chuckled. "Consider it a vacation, Qui-Gon. A _very_ long vacation."


	2. Moving In

2: Moving In 

* * *

"I think I liked Melida/Daan better," Obi-Wan quipped. "At least _that_ was a salvageable operation." 

"I think," Qui-Gon replied, his nose twitching, "that you are correct, Padawan." 

The pair stood looking at what was soon to be their home for the next...what? Days? Months? Years? Qui-Gon shook his head and sighed. The field was overgrown with large, deeply-rooted weeds, the pasture needed to be cleaned of debris, the fences all needed fixing, the barn was dilapidated, the house not much better...It looked like _years_ was going to be the operative word in this situation. Frustration welled up inside him. Why had the Council done this to him..._him_, their best fighter, negotiator - their best everything, second only to Mace Windu? 

He closed his eyes and asked the Force, not for the first time, to grant him strength. He was going to need it. The _thunk!_ of Obi-Wan's bags hitting the ground as the teen crossed his arms over his chest startled the Knight from his musings. With a mental shrug, he gave his apprentice a gentle shove towards the house. 

"We best get a move on, if we plan on making the place semi-habitable by nightfall. Which, by the way, means we only have a couple of hours." 

Obi-Wan gave him sour look. 

"Hey. This will teach you not to leave the Jedi after the stink you made about becoming my apprentice in the first place. If I recall, you wanted me to accept you so badly you nearly got yourself killed numerous times, and all so you could get out of being a farmer." 

An indignant _hrumph!_ was the only answer he received as the youngster picked up his bags and stalked towards the house. 

---------------------- 

Obi-Wan couldn't believe it. Qui-Gon was right. He had tried so very hard to get out of the Agri-Corps and now here he was once more: doomed to be a farmer until Force knew when. A fine misting of dust stirred when he opened the door, causing the young apprentice to sneeze uncontrollably. He gazed at the farmhouse's interior and repressed a shudder. 

The dust was over several inches thick and cobwebs criss-crossed the rafters. The wood of the floors, walls and furniture was rotting in some places and the stairs to the attic, located on the right side of the room and running perpendicular to the entrance, looked like they were ready to collapse under the weight of a feather. 

The layout was simplistic; the sheer size of the room amazed Obi-Wan. To his right, a foot or two away from the stairs, rested a large oak table that looked as if it could have seated at least twelve people in its prime. Only four matching chairs, however, were placed around it. An old, cracked vase which was missing a few pieces near the top, sat upon a yellowed and moth-eaten, diamond-shaped lace cloth that covered the length of the table, leaving the corners bare. On the north wall was a swinging door, which he presumed led to a kitchen area. 

On Obi-Wan's and the kitchen door's left: a cozy looking fireplace. The ashes from its last usage had not been cleaned out and had mixed with the dust. The mantle was missing the customary trinkets that denoted a living presence within the household. Next to the hearth was an empty bin for firewood and, hanging next to it, a poker. To the right of the fireplace was a well-worn couch, its stuffing oozing from numerous tears and gashes in the much-faded green fabric and its back to the dining area. A once colourful knitted blanket draped over the headrest - the only thing within the room that looked somewhat new and intact. Small cushions were nestled in the corners. 

Across from the couch were two identical armchairs. They looked as old and as beaten as the couch. Tatters of smaller blankets rested upon them that had been, Obi-Wan noted, identical to the one that rested on the couch. Between the furniture, on a ratty-looking area rug, a pine coffee table divided the sitting area. Broken vase number-two made its home upon the worn and faded surface 

Another door on the north wall, this one on the left side of the fireplace, revealed the master bedroom, while a door on the west wall, directly behind the chairs, opened onto a smaller room. 

"It looks like we'll have our work cut out for us." Qui-Gon's voice sounded muffled, the dust absorbing the echoes. He followed his Padawan's footprints as he looked about he room. "And I guess the larger room will be mine." 

Obi-Wan shrugged and disappeared into the master bedroom. 


	3. Neighbours

3: Neighbours 

* * *

With a sigh, Qui-Gon resigned himself to the reality that Obi-Wan was not going to make this mission an easy one. First the youth refused to speak more than two sentences at any one time, unless promted for a more thorough answer. Second, he had taken the master bedroom, which should have, by default, gone to Qui-Gon. 

_Ah well, let him have it, if it'll soothe his feelings. The guest room can't be too bad,_ Qui-Gon thought, pushing through the door. 

The first thing the Knight noticed, other than the large size of the room, were the two comfortable-looking, padded reclining chairs. They were in slightly better shape then the chairs in the main room, in that the stuffing was not oozing out. The fabric was worn away and patches of the insides were visible, but other than that, they looked pretty good. 

_Well, at least we won't have to replace **everything**,_ Qui-Gon thought with a chuckle. 

Between the chairs sat a table with an oil lamp upon it. Placing his bags near the doorway, Qui-Gon walked over and picked it up. After a brief inspection revealed that it only needed fuel to function once more, he replaced it and continued his survey. 

In front of the chairs, angled into the wall, was another fireplace, complete with a tinderbox and a poker and shovel set. A thick, woven rug, once multi-coloured, adorned the floor before the fireplace. Opposite the chairs and fireplace was a built in closet with drawers for clothes. A large, double-sized bed with a faded, rose-coloured comforter and matching pillows sat in front of the closet. On either side of the bed was a night table with an oil lamp on each and small, tattered, multi-coloured throw rugs upon the floor. 

On the wall opposite the door was a small window that looked out onto a clear patch of the farm before the forest blocked his view. 

And, over everything, was the several-inch thick layer of dust. 

"Well now, this isn't too shabby. Just needs a good dusting, is all," Qui-Gon said to the room, his hands on his hips. He tested the mattress and was pleased to see that it would hold his weight, at least long enough for them to get a replacement. 

He moved his belongings from the doorway to the closet and decided to see how his padawan faired. 

Qui-Gon knocked gently on the door to the master bedroom and entered after the soft 'come in'. 

The master bedroom closely matched the guest room for furniture. A large king-sized bed dominated the room, its head resting against the west wall. Oil lamps sat on the two bedside tables flanking the bed, and throw rugs again decorated the floor. Along the opposite wall from the bed was a large wardrobe where Obi-Wan had placed his baggage. 

A fireplace was carved out of the southern wall, situated directly behind the fireplace from the sitting room. A single chair, coupled with another table and rug, reclined before the darkened hearth. 

The only difference was one piece of furniture; along the north wall, just a short distance away from the window - whose view was remarkably similar to the guest room - was a very old, very worn vanity table, a few dusty and stained crystalline bottles upon it. The mirror was a modest piece, serving its purpose back when it was new but now warped and cracked. 

"I can't wait to see what this looks like when it's been cleared of dust," Qui-Gon said cheerfully. 

"I guess." Obi-Wan shrugged and looked around the room. 

Qui-Gon, sensing something wrong with his apprentice, raised a brow. "Is everything okay, Padawan?" 

Obi-Wan swallowed hard and toed the ground. "I apologize for being so rude to you when we arrived, Master. I guess I'm not handling this change very well." 

Qui-Gon gave the boy a warm smile. "I guess I should apologize as well, for what I said. Being a farmer is a noble profession. It's a great tool for understanding the Living Force." 

Obi-Wan stopped his fidgeting and looked up at his master. The two held each other's gaze for a long moment before Obi-Wan cleared his throat and looked once more around the room. "If you'd like, Master, we could change rooms? I was upset and being selfish when I took the choice away from you." 

"How about we see how things go before we get into that debate, Obi-Wan? We'll help each other dust and then discuss it." 

Obi-Wan smiled for the first time since they had arrived. "Deal." 

A loud knock on the front door turned both Jedi back to their surroundings. With Padawan following Master, they trekked across the expanse of dust. A questioning glance passed between them, and Qui-Gon opened the door, revealing two local women. 

"Good evening. My name is Elanor. This is my niece, Atariel." 

Elanor was as tall as Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan noted. Her hair flowed over her shoulders in a chocolate river, curling slightly at the ends. Her eyes were warm, their colour a compliment to the shade of her locks. The features of her face were nobly sculpted; high cheekbones, a regal nose and full lips, now upturned in a welcoming smile, all combined in a classic ensemble. Her complexion was that of a true farmer who spent long hours in the sun. 

She was adorned in a simple, light-beige cotton dress. The fabric was delicate and common in these parts during the spring. The neckline was square and modest, and the bodice was closely fitted, but not uncomfortably so. The waist was cinched with a white apron, the full skirt beneath hanging loosely. 

Clutched in her hands was a basket. Obi-Wan could only guess at the contents, as a white cloth covered the top, concealing whatever lay inside. 

Atariel, on the other hand, was an inch or so shorter than Obi-Wan. Her auburn-coloured hair was tucked behind her ears and barely brushed her shoulders. The tips of her leaf shaped ears poked through the gossamer strands of her locks. Her skin was lightly tanned, a testament to her time spent frolicking in the sun. Pale pink lips sat below a delicate nose, giving her round face a youthful charm. 

Adorned in a dress of pale blue, free flowing fabric, the skirt tickled her knees. The edges of the short sleeves and the skirt's hemline were embroidered with tiny seashells in pale yellow thread. She had a belt in the same colour tied at her waist, cinching the dress in place. Upon her feet were white, ankle-high leather boots. 

_She's beautiful,_ Obi-Wan thought. _And probably no older than I am._

"Hello." Qui-Gon returned Elanor's smile. "I'm Qui-Gon Jinn and this is Obi-Wan Kenobi." 

Obi-Wan smiled and added, "It's a pleasure to meet you both." 

"We came to welcome you to Agamar," Atariel said. "And to offer you some help with some of the cleaning." She grinned. 

Elanor chuckled. "Yes, we knew old Farmer Jones. We also know that this place has been gathering dust since he went to live with his daughter in the city. We figured you could use a hand to make it liveable." 

Qui-Gon laughed. "Indeed. Any help you would be willing to give would be greatly appreciated. Please, come in." 


	4. Friends

* * *

4: Friends  


* * *

"Use the Force only when necessary, Padawan. I want our status as Jedi kept secret for as long as possible," Qui-Gon had whispered before they had started. Obi-Wan heartily agreed. It would do them no good to let that piece of information out; every person in the village would be asking for their help in some form or another. 

_And news travels fast,_ Obi-Wan thought. _The entire planet would have us running back to Coruscant to plead some case or another before the Council and Senate._

So, with four pairs of hands helping – and a little judicious, yet ample amount of Force-help – Obi-Wan was pleased to note that it took a lot less time than he was anticipating. With the dust gone, the rooms seemed larger, more welcoming. 

Qui-Gon and Elanor left the youngsters to go fetch some wood to build a fire, Elanor promising that she and Atariel had brought something good to share for a late meal. 

Obi-Wan and Atariel sat on opposite sides of the pine coffee table in companionable silence. As they waited for the grown-ups to return, Atariel took the basket's cover and spread it over the table. Quickly, the table was set and she shared the contents of the basket with Obi-Wan. 

"These are all native foods," Atariel explained, placing containers between them. "When word got around that the supply transport was bringing refugees, each family prepared a dish. The Millers made the lamb stew, and the McPherson's made the black-bread. The Innkeeper and his wife made the stuffed mushrooms. The Bailey's supplied the roasted beef and gravy. Elanor and I supplied dessert." 

"And what is for dessert?" Obi-Wan asked, his mouth watering. He was still a growing boy and Force-be-damned if he wasn't starving now. _You're always 'starving',_ a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his master said. 

"Ah, dessert is a secret." Atariel winked. 

Qui-Gon and Elanor chose that moment to return, bearing enough wood to keep the Jedi for the night. 

Once a fire was roaring nicely, Elanor heated up the stew and they all tucked in. 

--------------- 

Obi-Wan lay happily in his bed, his thoughts much more sunny and hopeful. He didn't let himself think about what the morrow would bring as he finally took his Master's advice and lived in the moment. 

Dessert had been a delectable affair. Something called Jell-o(tm) had been mixed with yogurt to make a thick, creamy substance that melted on one's tongue. Whipped cream and berries had topped it. 

Now, with his tummy finally filled to suit even the most voracious of Padawans, Obi-Wan sank deeper into the large, king-sized bed. The soft snoring of his Master lying beside him lulled the youth into a deep and pleasant sleep. 


	5. Getting Started

* * *

5: Getting Started  


* * *

The three men were a sight to see. Lanky frames clothed in an eye-hurting array of colours, they stood before Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan, each bobbing his head in an identical manner. Obi-Wan was exerting all his efforts in trying not to laugh. The moustachioed trio looked very close to identical, with tanned skin, high cheekbones, long noses and dark eyes. They way they looked, however, was not what had Obi-Wan in a near state of hysterical breakdown. It was they way they moved; when one nodded, the other two joined in, the head bobbing looking very comical in comparison to a normal nod. 

"Oyah. We could lend yous some tools," the one in the middle, and presumably the oldest, stated. 

"Tools," the one on the left repeated. 

"Oyah," the one on the right added. 

"By the way," the first added, "My name is Dod Nobrin. These are my brothers, Fod and Lod." 

"Pleased to meet you," Qui-Gon said with a smile. "I am Qui-Gon. This is Obi-Wan." He gave the youth a grin and a wink. 

"Oyah. We know," Dod said with the distinctive head bob. "Elanor already told us." 

Obi-Wan sighed inwardly. It seemed that their precaution in keeping their Jedi heritage under wraps was well founded after all. 

Fod picked up the conversation and added, "We can have them brought up to you as soon as we get them together." 

Dod gave his brother a curious look. "Elanor and Atariel?"" 

Lod shook his head. "The tools." 

Dod bobbed his head. "Oyah. S'right. The tools." 

------------ 

The midday sun beat hot against the back of Obi-Wan's neck and shoulders. He had done away with his tunic an hour earlier as he dug into the hard dirt. He paused to wipe his brow, noting that Qui-Gon had finally figured out how to properly use the tool the Nobrin brothers had named a sickle and was currently hacking away at the tall, stringy grass in the pasture. 

Obi-Wan glanced down at the hoe he was using and then gave the field a cursory glance. "The soil is as stubborn as the locals," he muttered, bending over to once more dig in. 

"I'm glad you think so," the laughing voice of Atariel startled Obi-Wan badly. He had been too keen on the heat and the job at hand to be mindful of anything else, much less the Force. Atariel laughed as he stumbled and fell flat on his face. Reaching out a hand, the girl giggled. "You should be more careful." 

Obi-Wan tried to glare at her, but failed as she hauled him off the ground. "What brings you up here?" He asked as he brushed dirt off his chest. He suddenly wished he hadn't taken off his tunic. 

"Just wanted to make sure the Nobrins remembered to bring up the tools they promised." Atariel gave Obi-Wan an appraising look. "And to make sure you were getting along alright in using them properly." 

"What makes you think we wouldn't…?" 

"Don't pretend, Obi-Wan. I could tell you weren't a farmer when I first saw you. You don't have the right build." 

_Uh-oh_... Obi-Wan swallowed thickly. "And what type of build do I have, exactly?" He was dreading the answer. 

Atariel gave him another glance and furrowed her brow. "I haven't decided yet." 

Relief flooded the Padawan and he smiled shyly. "Let me know when you come up with an answer." He picked up the hoe and prepared to launch back into work. A gentle hand on his shoulder stopped him and he blushed. 

Atariel shook her head. "You're doing it wrong. Don't hack at the ground. You'll get nowhere in this soil. You should use a shovel first, to break up the ground and turn it over." 

Suiting action to words, Atariel demonstrated. Once she had a section of ground turned she picked up the hoe. "Then you use this to smooth it out and make the furrows for planting." 

"I guess that _is_ easier then what I was doing." Obi-Wan grinned. He picked up the shovel and speared the ground. 

By the time Qui-Gon had removed the last bundle of grass and debris from the pasture, Obi-Wan and Atariel had over-turned half of the field. The sun was hanging low in the Western sky as he watched the two youngsters. He smiled indulgently and then called out, "I think it's time we ended for the evening." 

Obi-Wan wiped his brow on his forearm and nodded in the direction of his master. He and Atariel picked up the tools they had been using and brought them to the shed. "We made a good start, today. Thanks for your help, Atariel." He sighed as the cool of the shed washed over his searing skin. 

"It was my pleasure." Atariel giggled. "And you, my friend, are sun-burned." 

"Why so you are, Pada-, er, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon winced inwardly at his near fumble, a teasing smile playing over his lips. Atariel gave him the briefest of glances before grinning once more at Obi-Wan. 

Atariel, walked back into the golden light of dusk. "I'll nip down to our place and grab some Aloe leaves for that burn. You two wash up. I'll be back just after dinner." 

------------ 

Obi-Wan winced as the soothing balm of the aloe-soaked cloth touched his back. Atariel had been true to her word and had dropped off a fair supply of the herb only a half-hour before. She stayed only long enough to show Qui-Gon how to prepare them. That suited Obi-Wan fine, as he didn't want her to see him undergoing his treatment. 

"W-wouldn't bacta have been better, Master?" Obi-Wan said as the cloth settled upon his back. It felt like a sheet of ice. 

"It would, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon replied, gently patting his Padawan's back. "But we need to ration our supply, as I'm not sure how readily available it is here. It should be saved for grievous injuries." 

"Well, one thing's for certain." 

"Oh? And what's that?" 

"Not only am I wearing my tunic all day tomorrow, but I think," Obi-Wan said as the cloth was removed to be dipped once more, "that I shall not be sleeping on my back for a few days." 

Qui-Gon's laughter made the youth smile as the Master continued tending to his Apprentice's burns. 


	6. Birds of a Feather

6: Birds of a Feather  


* * *

Obi-Wan paused at the edge of the field, smiling at the shoots of green that were now past knee-height. The had all sorts of things planted in the field, and the young man was amused to see how much delight Qui-Gon took in tending to the young plants, nurturing them and helping them to grow. 

He watched the older man now, as the Knight knelt to speak to one of the cucumber plants. His master was in his element that was for sure. The Living Force was quite abundant on their little farm, and Obi-Wan had no doubt that it was Qui-Gon's doing. 

He didn't want to bother the other man, but he felt he should let his master know where he was going. He stepped gingerly between the rows of plants until he was standing next to Qui-Gon. 

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon beamed. "How are things coming along?" 

"Things are fine. Mac and I had a nice jaunt around town. Moo and Ronnie are grazing in the pasture; Roo and Claire are clucking away in the chicken coop," he stated, naming their horse, cow and bull, rooster and hen. 

"Good. It sounds like you have everything under control." 

"I do. Which is why I came by to let you know that I'm going to go exploring the woods some more." 

Qui-Gon nodded. "Alright. Be careful and have fun. And see if you can find some wild herbs for dinner tonight." 

"Always. And I will." 

The refreshing dimness of the trees was like sinking into cool water. Although his skin was now tanned from his many hours in the sun, he remembered all too well the searing kiss of sunburn. The forest was a welcome refuge from the hot summer days, and Obi-Wan relished his time under the leafy canopy. 

The dappled sunlight illuminated the pathway and he struck out along the winding track that he had slowly been uncovering. He walked for a little more than half an hour, passing through the little clearings that he had explored so thoroughly on his last visits and which produced the handful of edible herbs that he had discovered. 

He reached the final clearing and peered about before finding where his trail should pick up. His muffled footsteps announced his passing, and he pushed through the underbrush, intent on seeing what he could. Obi-Wan carefully picked his way into the unknown, his Jedi senses helping him keep his sense of direction. 

He had been on a few tracking exercises with Qui-Gon, and had learned much about silently passing through areas that would otherwise announces his presence like a blaring siren. He drew on all these skills as he cut a new trail, one that was entirely his own, letting the Force guide him. 

The silence deepened and Obi-Wan could feel the air pressing in on him. A thrill of uncertainty coursed through him, as the sound of soft, rolling thunder bent the airwaves, but he was unafraid. His heightened senses added a delicious flutter to the moment; the unexpectedness of what he would find caused the adrenaline to carry him on its wave; a wave, indeed, as he broke through the mantle of branches and into another, very large clearing. 

Unlike the others, this clearing was very large. A ten-foot high rock-face was directly opposite him, its ragged features starkly contrasting the soft edges of the forest around it. It had to have been about fifteen feet wide, and how far back it went, Obi-Wan could only guess. Its roots were submerged in the crystalline waters of a pond, which reminded Obi-Wan strongly of the lake back in the Jedi Temple. A cascading waterfall fed the pond, its roar heralding its presence as the dull clamour filled the area with a blanket of sound. 

Standing on the shingle, he could see the rocky bottom of the cliff, and the soft sand that was the edifice's doorstep. Obi-Wan didn't hesitate. He pulled off his boots and tunic and waded into the surprisingly nippy water. When he was waist deep, he scooped the clear liquid into his cupped hands and splashed it over his face and hair, before diving under the surface. 

He swam every inch of the pond, exploring the depths until his lungs hurt. He dried himself on a nearby boulder, letting himself sink into a peaceful meditation. The sun lagged in its journey through the sky, warming the rock and Obi-Wan deeply. The westward movement of light playing behind closed eyelids gave a welcome change in texture to his meditation. 

Completely in tune with his surroundings, it was astounding that he failed to be prepared for the gentle weight on his bare chest. It didn't register at first, he supposed, because he was so in tune with everything. But, as the meditation ebbed and flowed in its intricate weave, he became aware of something upon him. It was a curious feeling, slightly fuzzy and ticklish, yet with a touch of cool leather right in the centre. 

Emerging from his trance, not moving a muscle, Obi-Wan slowly opened his eyes. He let out a startled gasp. There, very near to him, was the brilliant green-headed, black-eyed, yellow-billed visage of a duck. 

"Quack!" his feathered companion stated. 

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly a few times, trying to figure out why a duck was perched on his bare chest. Very slowly, so as not to startle the creature, he reached up and gently lifted the animal off of him and sat up. The duck allowed this course of action happily, stamping his webbed feet on the sand once Obi-Wan set him down. 

Pulling on his tunic, Obi-Wan spared a glance at the duck and smiled. "Thank you for your company, friend. But it is time for me to go home." So saying, Obi-Wan donned his boots and started walking towards the path. 

"Quack!" the duck cried again, with a flutter of wings. Obi-Wan turned just in time to see the fowl land neatly behind him. "Quack!" 

Keeping an eye on the duck, Obi-Wan took a couple of steps. The duck followed. Obi-Wan broke into a jog, but before he could gain the trees, the duck landed in front of him. 

"QUACK!" 

"How you can sound so indignant is beyond me," Obi-Wan said to the duck, slightly amused. "Well, let's go then. No need to keep Qui-Gon waiting." 

The unlikely pair trod back through the woods, stopping only to pick Qui-Gon's desired herbs along the way. As they reached the farm, they could see the sun beginning to sink below the western horizon. Obi-Wan and Quacks, as the youth had come to think of him, found the Knight putting away his gardening tools. 

He looked up at Obi-Wan's approach and raised a brow in curiosity, as he took in the younger man's companion. 

Obi-Wan merely smiled and said, with a shrug, "What can I say? He followed me home, Master. ...Can I keep him?" 

Qui-Gon threw his head back and laughed. 


	7. Growth

(( **A/N: **...Yeah. I'm not sure what it is with Obi and flowers. You'll have to ask _him._))

* * *

7. Growth

* * *

"Oyah," Dod Nobrin intoned with his customary head-bob. "Yous could do that." 

"Interesting." Qui-Gon rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he considered Dod's affirmation.

The two men were leaning against the fence that ran around the Nobrin's property, which sat between the town and the Jedi's farm.

Obi-Wan walked up to them, heading in the direction of home. He was pulling a small, laden wagon behind him, with Quacks perched on the very top. The duck quacked in greeting. Obi-Wan asked, "Do what?"

Qui-Gon shook his head. "Oh, nothing. Just a little project I wanted to start on. No need to concern yourself, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan looked sceptical. "Anyway, I've got everything I need here, Qui-Gon."

"Excellent, my friend!"

"Whatchu up to, little man?"Dod asked, eyeing Obi-Wan's wagon.

"Oh, Obi-Wan's wanting to grow a flower for the Summer Festival." Qui-Gon beamed. Obi-Wan had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. His Master had been on him since they had met about the youth's tendency to shy away from the Living Force, so when Obi-Wan had announced that he wanted to grow a flower for the festival Qui-Gon yipped for joy.

The thought of Qui-Gon's little dance of glee killed Obi-Wan's exasperation and made him smile. "Yes. I thought it would be fun to enter. I bought all the things I needed to get started."

"Well, make sure yous take real good care of dat flower, now, y'hear? Ain't no slackin' gonna win yous d'prize."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I'm sure Obi-Wan will take very good care of his flower. Why don't you go on back to the farm and get started, Obi-Wan, and I'll be along soon. I need to finish talking with Dod."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Okay. Remember that you're making dinner tonight, so don't be late!"

"QUACK!"

Qui-Gon laughed. "Go, my voracious friends. I'll be back in time to prepare you both a feast!"

With an exasperated smile for Qui-Gon and a shake of his head, Obi-Wan walked up the small hill that led to the farm. He grinned when he saw Atariel, gazing at the field of crops. The knee-high shoots of a few weeks ago had nearly matured for many of them, with the others not far behind. They had done a lot of work since they had arrived, and their animals had provided them with a tidy little income at the market.

"Hey, Atariel!"

"Hey Obi-Wan! Hiya Quacks!"

"QUACK!"

Atariel bounced as she met Obi-Wan along the path and fell into step with him. "Qui-Gon is doing a great job with those crops! I can tell the corn is going to be the best this town has ever seen!"

"Yeah, he's definitely taken a shine to farming."

"So have you,"Atariel said, grinning. "And if you take care of this flower half as well as you look after the animals, the rest of us won't stand a chance at this year's festival!"

Obi-Wan blushed. He guided the wagon to the unused shed near the crop-field and began unloading. Atariel helped while Quacks directed the process. They were nearly half-way done when a loud, _"Oh, no. No, no, no. Out of the shed. Out, out, out!"_ came from behind them. All three turned to watch Qui-Gon as his long strides brought him to stand over the group, hands on his hips.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to be needing that shed," he said with a shake of his head. "You need to get all this stuff out of here."

"Is everything okay, Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan asked tentatively.

"Oh, everything's fine, Obi-Wan. I just need you out of the shed."

Atariel shared a look with Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan shrugged, then started to reload the wagon. "Any particular reason why, Mr. Jinn?" Atariel gave the older man a side-long glance.

"Oh, I'm afraid I can't tell you that." His voice was grave, but his eyes were full of mirth. "Top secret, and all."

"Oh," she said quietly. Atariel placed the last item on top of the stack and help Obi-Wan wheel it away. "Alright then. We'll just go around the side of the barn, then."

Quacks followed the youths, pausing only long enough to give the older man a piece of his mind. He was still quacking as he caught up with his friends. Obi-Wan chuckled, looking over at his Master. The man was staring at the small building thoughtfully and the young Apprentice could tell his Master was working out calculations.

He sighed. "I swear, I've known Qui-Gon for about half my life now, and he still throws me sometimes. I wonder if I'll ever understand him."

"Oh, you will." Atariel lined up the gardening tools on the ground, along the base of the barn. "Grown-ups are allowed to be strange every now and again. It's a privilege that comes with age."

"Yeah, I suppose. Now, let's get this flower started." He eyed the items from the wagon. He had four pots of different sizes, each one a little bigger than the last; he had a spade and small watering can. He had packs of soil and a pack of fertilizer. And, wrapped in a moist piece of tissue, he had the most precious thing of all: a single, tiny seed.

Atariel picked out the smallest pot as Obi-Wan opened a pack of soil. Quacks held onto the wrapped seed as he watched the human and the Agamarian filled the pot carefully, getting dirt everywhere. People! They never did anything neatly. Not like ducks. He opened his bill to say as much, and the seed fell to the ground.

"Quacks!" Atariel admonished gently. She picked up the tissue. Quacks bleated an apology before taking it from her. He watched as Obi-Wan used the spade to dig a hole.

"Alright, Quacks," he said. "Time for the seed."

The waterfowl gently placed the tissue on the ground, and with more finesse than once could imagine a duck as possessing, he unwrapped the seed and picked it up delicately. Quacks waddled to the pot, aimed, and let it fall into the hole.

Obi-Wan smiled and quickly covered it up. "Well done, Quacks."

Atariel went to fill the watering can, and then returned to give the seed a good shower. "Now, make sure you use the fertilizer sparingly, or you'll hurt the poor thing. And water it every other day, or so. You don't want the soil too dry, nor do you want it too wet..."

"Atariel, I think I can grow a simple flower." Obi-Wan gave her a playful poke.

She grinned at him. "Just making sure. Now, let's go see if we can't find out what Qui-Gon's up to."

Obi-Wan laughed. "Oh, believe me when I say we can't. There is no way in the galaxy that Qui-Gon will tell us what's going on."


End file.
